"Oh, don't talk of it in that calm way--suppose you had been killed!" "I suppose the Zouave would have buried me--he's such a helpful creature, you know.

He's been in Algiers.

He says I ought to go there.

His name is Hegisippe Cruchot." "But what about the flat ?" asked Emmy.
"Oh, you see, I fell down in front of the cab and he dragged me away and brushed me down with a waiter's napkin--there was a cafe within a yard or two.

And then I asked him to have a drink and gave him a cigarette.